Summer evenings at the library lacked the busyness of the school year. There were no students cramming for exams or checking out books for reports they’d procrastinated until the last minute. There were no disappointed faces when you’d tell them that all ten copies of The Great Gatsby had been checked out. 

It was just you, the chirping crickets, and the D&D game still going on down the hall. 

Shit. 

You’d put it off long enough. The D&D club wasn’t a bad group of kids; they always cleaned up after themselves, though you did have to remind them to lower their voices every now and then. The games apparently got…intense, and this was a library, after all. 

No, the problem wasn’t the kids, or the game, or the fact that the club’s logo nearly sent your small town into full-blown Satanic Panic. 

The problem was their fearless leader, Eddie Munson. 

Your first rap on the door went unnoticed, caught up in the din of their game. Your second knock fared better. 

“Aw, shit. What time is it?” A familiar voice lamented. You placed him after a second: Dustin Henderson. The kid had an overdue list a mile long. 

“Time to admit defeat!” Eddie’s growl sent a horde of butterflies surging through your stomach. “A truly pathetic showing tonight, boys.”

“Hey!”

“And Lady Applejack,” he amended before quickly slipping back into his dramatic persona. “Now, leave my sight! Your presence disgusts Eddie the Banished.”

The rest of the group trudged out of the room, but not before a shaggy-haired boy flipped Eddie the bird. 

“No manners, these kids. I’m tellin’ ya.” Eddie shook his head. He grabbed an empty soda can and chucked it at the nearest trashbin, missing by a longshot. 

“Shit,” he muttered, the tips of his ears turning pink as he scooped it up and tossed it away with purpose. “I was never much of a jock,” he joked lamely. 

You gripped the table, fending off the urge to kiss his embarrassed smile. 

“I know,” you blurted out, feeling your own face grow warm. “I mean, I remember in high school, you were more of a…”

“Freak?” Eddie supplied, his grin growing more confident. 

You laughed. “I was gonna say ‘rebel.’”

“Same thing.” He shrugged. “Better to be a rebel than goody-two-shoes, y’know?”

You didn’t know. You were a rule-follower; someone who craved order and structure. 

Eddie sensed your hesitation. “You’re a rebel, too.” He chuckled when your brows shot up, his declaration catching you off-guard. “Look: the library closes at nine, but it’s currently…” he checked his watch. “…nine-oh-six, and you haven’t kicked me out.”

You could kick him out. If he was anyone else, you would’ve reminded him that the library was closed and opened tomorrow at eight a.m. 

But he was Eddie Munson, the guy you’d harbored a crush on since middle school—buzzcut and all. 

He hoisted himself onto the plastic tabletop, plopping down with an exaggerated thud. 

“So, besides my athletic talent, what else do you remember about me?”

The way your patches were crookedly sewed onto your denim jacket. The way you cut class to hole up in the band room and practice guitar. The way you smelled of cigarettes and Old Spice. The way you climbed on top of cafeteria tables and made grandiose speeches, usually tearing into Jason Carver or Billy Hargrove in the process. 

“Not much.” The lie came out in a higher register, instantly giving you away. 

Eddie swung his legs back and forth. “Well, I remember you. And if I’m remembering correctly, you actually were quite the rebel yourself.”

“Me?”

He nodded emphatically. “Oh, yeah. Always reading, even when the teacher was talking. You got after-school detention for reading To Kill a Mockingbird in chem class.”

You balked at the memory. “That was not rebellion. That was just me being a bookworm.”

“I dunno.” There was a teasing lilt in Eddie’s voice that matched his smirk. “I think you’re more rebellious than you realize, Bookworm.”

His words haunted you until he showed up at the library a few nights later. It was two minutes to closing, and the place was a dead zone. 

Eddie’s Reeboks scraped against the carpet, his thumbnail tucked between his teeth as he chewed nervously. 

“H-Hey.” He twisted a skull ring around his middle finger. “You weren’t…upset the other night, right? When I was teasing…um, joking about you being a rebel?”

You shook your head. Shocked would have been a better descriptor than upset. 

Eddie blew out a sigh of relief. “Good. Yeah.” He raked his fingers through his curls. “Because I wasn’t making fun of you or anything. I…I thought it was pretty badass, actually. Like when we had to go to those stupid mandatory pep rallies and you’d just read the whole time.”

“I thought you were pretty badass, too,” you said softly. “I wish I had the guts to stand on top of the lunchtables and tell off Jason Carver like you did.”

Eddie’s face lit up, his usual confidence beginning to emerge. “Well, I wish I could’ve corrected Mrs. O’Donnell in front of the whole class like you did,” he countered. “I’d never seen her speechless before that day.”

You bit your lip, quelling your anxiety and working up the nerve to speak again. “I wish I’d talked to you back in high school.”

“I wish I’d kissed you back in high school.” Eddie took a step forward so that his body pressed against the desk. One hand gently cupped your cheek, and when you didn’t pull back, he drew closer. “I wish I told you I saw you reading The Grapes of Wrath so I tried reading it.”

“What did you think?”

He grinned against your lips. “I fuckin’ hated it.”

Before you could inquire further, Eddie pressed his mouth to yours, sealing his opinion with a kiss. You didn’t hesitate, kissing him back like his lips were a lifeline.

His tongue brushed yours and you let him in, savoring the taste of cigarettes and spearmint gum. You pressed your thighs together, grateful that he couldn’t see from the other side of the checkout desk.

When Eddie finally pulled away, there was no hiding the flush of his cheeks and his swollen lips. “I can leave now, or…”

He left it open-ended, waiting for you to fill in that blank. He should leave; the library was closed and it was time for you to go home. 

But…

“Stay.”

Eddie leapt over the desk as soon as the word left your mouth. His hands found your waist, backing you into the cart of books that needed to be reshelved.

His hardness strained against his fly and pressed into your thigh. Without thinking, you rolled your hips into him.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie moaned, tightening his grip. “Knew you weren’t all innocent.”

“Maybe you’re just a bad influence.” Your fingers tugged at his shirt. “Coming into my library and corrupting me.”

Eddie chuckled darkly, his dark curls tickling your cheeks as he shook his head. “This isn’t corruption, sweetheart. You haven’t even seen corruption yet.”

“Show me?”

Eddie groaned at your request. One hand slipped under your linen skirt and squeezed your ass. “Show you, huh?”

You nodded, trying to fend off the heat in your cheeks and between your legs.

His nose brushed your ear. “Bend over this desk,” he whispered, “but stay quiet. Can’t be loud in the library, right?”

The moment your forearms rested atop the counter, his middle finger traced the dampness in your panties. 

“Fuck, yeah.” He circled your clit over the fabric, already sensitive from just the thought of his touch. “Have you been wet this whole time?”

“Mm…mhm.” You clenched around nothing, desperate for him to fill you. Every time you’d fantasized about this, you were in a bed or somewhere private. The public library was not on your list of imagined sex locations. 

But you couldn’t deny the thrill. The front door was still unlocked and the lights were still on; anyone could ignore the posted hours and walk right in to see Eddie currently shoving your panties aside and fucking you with his fingers.

“Oh…oh my god,” you whimpered. “Keep going. Please, keep going. Just like that.”

“I got you.” Eddie kissed the side of your neck, sucking at the supple skin. “Gonna let me leave a mark, Bookworm?”

You’d let him do whatever he wanted, no questions necessary. He was waiting for an answer, so you nodded–the only movement you could manage with two of his fingers buried inside you.

His teeth nipped where he’d just kissed, hard enough that a bruise would surely form by tomorrow morning. You’d have to cover it with makeup.

Or you could leave it. Show it off. Prove to everyone you saw that Eddie Munson had claimed you, even if for just one night.

“Eddie…Eddie!” You came around his fingers, rocking back into them. Eddie slowed his pace but stayed inside you, gently bringing you down from the high.

More. You needed more.

“Okay, okay!” Eddie laughed. 

Shit, did you say that aloud?

It didn’t matter; Eddie licked his fingers clean with a delighted sigh. 

“Turn around for a sec, little rebel.”

You nearly gasped. He unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper, his cock straining to be free. There was no denying that he was rock-hard.

He stroked himself beneath his boxers. “Almost came when you did,” he admitted. “Almost…fuck…almost blew my load in my pants.”

The thought of him coming without even being touched was strangely hot. Something you definitely wanted to explore when you had more time.

“That turn you on, little rebel?” Eddie grinned, expertly reading the subtle diversion of your gaze. “Guess what? Me, too.”

He spun you back around and tapped the tip of his cock on your bare ass. You whined, aching for him, and he knew it.

“Patience,” he murmured. “Just gotta…there we go.”

He anchored himself inside you, pushing in until he bottomed out. His movements were torturously slow; he was too hard and you were too wet to do anything but fuck, yet he thrusted with care and precision.

“Eddie. Faster.”

His grip on your hips tightened, but he didn’t budge. “Beg for it,” he demanded. “Beg for me to fuck you against this desk like the bad fuckin’ girl you are.”

“Please, Eddie,” you tried again. “Please fuck me against the desk. I need to be fucked r-right now.”

“Mhm.” Eddie moved faster, but not fast enough. You reached around for his thigh to move him yourself, but he growled and swatted your hand away. “Now tell me who made you this bad. Who corrupted you.”

“Y-You did. You corrupted me, Eddie.”

With a string of curses, Eddie drove himself into you, unable to hold back as he pistoned his hips. 

“Thas’right,” he slurred. “I corrupted you.”

“You corrupted me,” you echoed pathetically. Every thought you had was focused on him, his cock, and how amazing he felt inside you. “Only…only bad for you.”

The two of you worked in tandem, finding the spots that made you moan while he grew impossibly harder within you. Every drag of his cock unleashed another wave of pleasure, and he chased after it reflexively.

“My pretty little rebel. Gonna make a mess of you, ‘kay?” When you nodded, he wrapped one hand around your throat and drew you back. “Need to hear you say it.”

Your brain scrambled for words until you finally found one: “O-Okay.”

You could practically hear his grin. “Touch yourself while I make a mess of you, little rebel.” He let go of your throat but stayed inside you until he saw you rubbing your clit with a trembling finger.

The soft schlick of his hand stroking his erection distracted you from the emptiness. You rubbed faster, failing to swallow the moans that echoed throughout the library.

“Gonna…gonna…oh, shit. Oh, yes!” Eddie painted your ass with warm cum, pushing his tip into your soft flesh. “Jesus H. Christ. That was…holy shit, that’s a lot of cum.”

Between heaving breaths, you laughed. Eddie Munson had just fucked you in the library–at your job–and finished on your ass, and now he was bewildered by the amount of cum?

He reached for the tissue box, ready to clean you off. And maybe it was the bravery of someone who just fulfilled a fantasy, or maybe it was just sex-induced foolishness, but you grabbed hold of one last piece of rebellion.

“Leave it.” You adjusted your panties and skirt, letting them cling to the large wads of his spend. It would certainly stain, but you didn’t care. 

You wanted a reminder of the night that Eddie Munson utterly ruined you for anyone else.